Miss Begotten is one of my pet names for myself, for Southern Gothic reasons best kept to myself. Miss Begotten tries to speak plainly, but sometimes she tends to babble -- parenthetically, of course. It's never my intention to offend (and usually that's true - except on those [maybe not so] rare occasions when I mean it very friggin' much) but it sometimes happens, so if you're unusually easily offended...

Friday, May 11, 2007

Jolie Vendredi -- And TGIF

I ain't talkin no big dealsI ain't made no plans myselfI ain't talkin no high heelsMaybe we could walkin around, all day long,Walkin around, all day long

Hurt so goodCome on baby make it hurt so goodSometimes love don't feel like it shouldYou make it hurt so good

(John Cougar Mellencamp, "Hurts So Good")

I'm over my masochistic whining and moaning bender of the past week or so -- which was sadistic of me to subject you all to, I know. I guess that kind of-sort of-loosely means that I know a little S&M now. I wonder how the job market is for dominatrixes? Aren't they the ones who get to have all the love slaves? Yeah, that's a weird thought. Tell me about it. It's been a weird and difficult week. I'm glad it's over. I hope next week runs much smoother.

If it's Friday, I'm guessing it must be Joke Day. I know, we completely missed Dress-Up Day yesterday. We'll do it next week -- if I can remember. I, too, have Can'tRememberShit. I completely forgot, for example, that it was my day to post on Verbicidal Tendencies and had to hustle this morning to get something ready. Twice recently, I thought it was my day when it wasn't. It's a wonder poor Hale McKay hasn't tried to get me a commitment hearing. Perhaps we could throw a telethon to try and find a cure, because I know I'm not the only one afflicted with this sorry sickness.

(Pretty blonde, look at what you've done,You left me to go away,To go away with another, yes, than me,What hope and what future am I going to have?)

("Jole Blon," often referred to as the Cajun national anthem)

Blonde

A blonde heard that milk baths would make her beautiful.

She left a note for her milkman to leave 25 gallons of milk.

When the milkman read the note, he felt there must be a mistake. He thought she probably meant 2.5 gallons. So he knocked on the door to clarify the point.

The blonde came to the door and the milkman said, "I found your note asking me to leave 25 gallons of milk. Did you mean 2.5 gallons?"

The blonde said, "I want 25 gallons. I'm going to fill my bathtub up with milk and take a milk bath so I can look young and beautiful again."

The milkman asked, "Do you want it pasteurized?"

The blonde said, "No, just up to my boobs. I can splash it on my eyes."

Boudreaux

Chlotilde often made ole Boudreaux's life miserable wit her constant nagging and complaining. The only real peace he ever got was when he was out in the field plowing. One day while he was out in the field, Chlotilde brought his lunch to him. She stayed while he ate quietly, but berated him with a continuous stream of nagging and complaining.

Suddenly Boudreaux's old mule kicked up his back legs, stuck Chlotilde in the head, and killed her.

At the wake, Boudreaux's priest, Father Jules, noticed comething strange. When the women offered their sympathy to Boudreaux he would nod his head up and down, but when the men came up and spoke quietly to him, he would shake his head from side to side.

When the wake was over and all the mourners had left, Father Jules approached Boudreaux and asked, "Why was it that you nodded your head up and down to all the women and shook your head from side to side for all the men?"

I see by my lunar calendar that it's royalty time in Putridville again. You owe me for at least two books. I should know -- I bought them from Amazon myself. AFTER my contract was cancelled. Gotcha! On the off chance that you actually intend to pay me the couple of bucks due, I'd like to request that you send the money instead to LemmingAid. This is a charitable organization dedicated to preventing any more senseless cliff jumps by lemmings. LA has promised to notify me when your generous contribution arrives. Don't write the check in invisible ink. That is highly stressful to lemmings.

Love,One Rehabilitated Lemming___________________Dear TWIT,

Someone at Putrid should write a book titled "How To Live On The Pathetic Amount You Receive In Putrid Royalties" or "The Putrid Guide to Applying for Welfare." Don't let those pennies burn a hole in your pocket!!!

Worst regards,Burned Chicken___________________Dear ChickenTWIT,

Thank you for the splendid idea! But you didn't sign your name. Bwaaaaak. Of course, we're all used to unsigned correspondence. I suppose you can't be blamed for not signing your e-mail, though. Getting caught would mean a session in the cellar with Billy-Bob, wouldn't it? Poor TWIT.

Love,Wasted Away in Putridville

Another lying, dumbshit quiz.:)

Your Life is Rated R

Your life is definitely adults only. While children accompanied by parents are welcome, they'll probably be scarred for life.

LOL, Kan. Sometimes I fool myself and get the Math questions and flunk the common sense ones. I think it all depends on how tight my tinfoil is on any given day. Speaking of which, I have to go line up some potatoes now and try out some new armor designs on them. I get to use them for target practice afterwards, and then I fork holes in the leftover corpses and bake them. Yummy.

Okay, Littlebird, where are the nekkid people and the booze? It's Friday and I am BORED. LOL.

Greeny, you do such a wonderful job with the twisted stuff! Between you and Kan and Littlebird, I'm not even worried about losing my mind any more. As soon as I pop, y'all can take over the Twisted stuff without a hitch.

Somebody give that short old-fashioned knome a Percocet! Next: Knome, the Ultimate Role-Playing Game. Who wants to develop it?

Arte y Pico Award

About Me

You can call me "Serena" or SJ or you can just call me Sherry. If you call me anything else, I'll hear about it. Believe it. I write every now and then and I ... read. I love a good mystery/thriller. If it has me up late, double-checking the locks on the doors, it's hit the mark. I want... Well, I'll let you know when I know.
I ADORE comments, by the way (hint-hint).